


Flinch

by scribaversutus



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel (Comics)
Genre: Abuse, Child Abuse, Darkfic, Deaf Character, Deaf Clint Barton, Fraction's Hawkeye, abuse cw, deafness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-05
Updated: 2015-03-05
Packaged: 2018-03-16 10:47:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3485390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribaversutus/pseuds/scribaversutus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint Barton has overcome his past in almost every way, but every now and then it catches him off-guard and comes back to haunt him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flinch

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS DARKFIC. If you don't want to see Clint upset, DO NOT PROCEED.  
> (That said, nearly everything I write has some hope in it, so you decide: read all the way to the bottom if you want some hope, end before the parentheses if you just want to be sad.)
> 
> Set in Fraction's Hawkeye after Barney comes to visit.

Flipping the last pancake onto a plate from the griddle, Barney set it in the oven with the bacon and the rest of the pancakes. Now that he and Clint were getting along, he figured it was time for him to start acting like a brother again – and today that meant making breakfast. Padding upstairs, he entered Clint’s room and paused for a moment as the peaceful look on his little brother’s face caught him off guard. How long had it been since he’d seen Clint like this? Eight years? Ten? They’d been set against each other for so long that he’d almost forgotten how naturally sweet Clint was.

Moving around the side of the bed, Barney reluctantly shook his sleeping brother’s shoulder, deciding against letting him sleep in favor of getting breakfast in them both while it was still warm. Wondering if there was any syrup in the sparsely stocked cabinets, Barney found himself lingering on memories of the sleepy Saturdays they had shared in their childhood. Back then the only reason to wake up before noon had been the cartoons they both loved, but even then Clint had been hard to wake. Barney had gotten into the habit of waking up five minutes early just so he could rouse Clint enough to get them downstairs in time for the opening scenes – so he was woefully unprepared for how Clint reacted now.

Eyes snapping open, Clint spotted Barney and scrambled backwards until he was pressed against the headboard with his knees pulled up in front of him, one hand raised defensively and the other braced on the bed. Instantly alert, Barney realized what was happening and backed up slowly, trying to hide the shock and fear he was feeling behind a mask of calm, one that posed no threat.

“Clint,” Barney said softly, holding his hands up empty and relaxed to show he wasn’t going to hurt him. “It’s ok, you’re ok. I’m Barney, I’m your brother. You’re ok.”

He saw recognition begin to dawn in his little brother’s eyes, Clint’s breathing slowing as he took in his surroundings and started to calm down. When his head ended up in his hands and he let out a soft groan, Barney lowered his hands but stayed where he was, unwilling to move closer until Clint told him it was alright.

“Aw, geez, Barn. I thought… I thought you were Dad for a sec.” Clint didn’t raise his head yet, the stress response he was still experiencing bleeding into his voice.

“I kinda figured. Always did look like the bastard,” Barney said ruefully. “Listen… I’m gonna head back downstairs. When you’re ready, I’ve got pancakes and bacon down there for breakfast.”

Clint rubbed his face, still pulling himself together. “Yeah. Ok.”

Barney turned and moved towards the door, pausing only to look back around when Clint spoke again.

“Hey, Barney?” Clint pulled his head up to meet his brother’s eyes, his face still bleak but starting to get back to normal. “Sorry.”

Moving forward again, Barney shrugged. “Hey, you’ve got nothing to apologize for. You’re my brother. Good or bad, I’m here for you.”

“I know, I know. Thanks. I’ll be down in a minute.”

Barney raised a hand in acknowledgement as he moved down the stairs. Watching him go, Clint felt the darkness creeping up on him again and fought it back enough for the morning, but he knew that it was ultimately useless. It didn’t matter what he did, or who tried to help him. Eventually, the darkness would win.

 

 

(Stepping back into the kitchen, Barney felt the same darkness inside him but refused to do anything more than acknowledge its presence. This fight had been long over; the darkness was there for the rest of his life, he suspected, but it would never again overtake him. He had learned how to live with it. Now he just had to help his little brother do the same.)


End file.
